Feu de Glace
by Ladybird.c
Summary: Harry and Voldemort. It's a sight of the end; or, maybe, juste before the end. One shot.


OK guys, please be nice, I'm French! Hope you will enjoy and thanks for reading.

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**_Feu de Glace_**

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Flames. Ashes, burning like pain. The heat radiated the iced air, making it shine. Two forces were dancing, beyond the world's sight. They were above anyone's comprehension, but the impact of their collision could shake the confines of the universe.

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" You're better; so better than they are. They think they know, but they will never know anything. You_ know; when all they can do is brushing the shadows of the light they will never reach."_

The forces were pausing; the world had a respite. The confrontation was imminent, but they had a few seconds left. A _respite_.

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" You're so sure of what you say, aren't you? "

Kingdom of fire and ice, where the silvery fountain feed the darkness with scarlet mud, tasting hatred. The world has wept his last bloody tears. He was waiting for this agony, since the beginning of times, he was prying for it, he was breathing for it.

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" How couldn't I, looking at you? You're what no man could dare hoping to become. You, the blessed one. You could rose above all of them. Do they only see it? It may be the most ironical; that only I could truly understand what you are. "

The night holds its breath. The stars fade one by one. They don't belong here anymore; not _here_. The night stare at them with a tender motherly look.

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" You're wrong."

"Is that really what you think ?"

A shower of sparks, the gleams fly as fast as they can, last survivors, the darkness are after them.

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"And you, what do you think? You made what I am, you made of me their chosen one. You get within your hands the higher power a man could: the one of choosing your enemy. One prophecy, two ways. You chose me. You destroyed my life, you marked me, and then you waited for them to make of me the one I am now. The one who would face you. They thought they mastered the game, Dumbledore, the stars, the fate. They were wrong. It was you. And why? You built your own enemy, is that the moment you were waiting for since the beginning? To destroy me; or, even better, that I destroy you? It's there your aim, the end. You wanted me; it was your wish. Hatred is better than emptiness, isn't it? Before me, you get nothing."

A light wind rises, coloring the ice. The splinters mirror their figures boundlessly. It was like if a thousand men were standing behind each of them, just waiting for them to shut up, so they could end it _all_.

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"You're my biggest success. Don't try to hide that, accept it. Not the power, power is nothing, isn't it? Not the terror, not the blood. You. They never understood. You're right; before, I get nothing."

The warriors are waiting, blending into the shadows. The end comes now. Not, when they will rise their wands, not when they will take their arms…

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"You're wrong. You chose the wrong person."

Now. What happen now tell the fate of what will be left, _after_.

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" Oh, really?"

Their eyes got lost.

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" You thought we were alike, so alike that sometimes you didn't know which one you were anymore. You chose me for that. Same pain, same rage, same lacks. And you were wrong."

Strange how darkness can be confusing. The shadow warriors brush it as gently as they can, nearly forgetting the rage they feel for each other. The death is like a butterfly.

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" You're the one who don't understand, now."

The ice grimaces in pain, distorted, as the devouring flames coax the darkness.

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" No. We aren't alike. Neither of us is the reflection of the other, as you'd like to believe. I'm actually the exact contrary of what you are."

They touch shyly, the shadows caress the light, they don't dare to look at each other. The air shivers, waiting; and the ice shines with blood.

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" Is that what you really think? Nothing stay that way, the other side of the mirror doesn't exist. Isn't a part of you afraid to destroy me? Maybe because, if I disappear, you'll lost a bit of yourself."

The rage become sweet, intoxicating; out of breath, waits for the pain, for the explosion. Waits for the inevitable.

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" It's what you'd love to believe, isn't it? It's what you want, since the beginning. You never had this_ power, on anyone. The power which keeps alive, which makes me breathe. We are the two ends of the same line; the force burning in me is the same that the one freezing your blood. I've been blessed, while you're the damned one."_

The flames enter the ice, devouring it from inside. The stars kindle. Shrieking, the two forces rush against one another. All is quiet. It's the final gleam, before the fall.

Just before the fall

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